Mercenaries, I Will Be King Chapter 1425 - 1187: The Secret Night Transmission

United States, Virginia, outskirts of Langley City.

The night was deep, and Simon silently slid his black official sedan into the garage of his ho.

Inside the house, it was silent, with only a dim nightlight left in the corridor.

His wife and children had long gone to sleep.

Ho, always the most relaxing harbor for anyone.

Even an intelligence chief was no exception.

He took off his suit, loosened his tie, and a familiar sense of relaxation returned to his body.

First, he tiptoed into his study, following strict confidentiality procedures, took out encrypted docunts from his briefcase, and locked them in the wall safe.

His fingertips brushed over the cold tal safe door, making a faint click sound. This sowhat ritualistic action made his chaotic thoughts settle down a bit.

Then, he went to the kitchen to make himself a cup of black coffee.

The rich, bitter aroma perated the air, and he leaned against the kitchen counter, gazing at the tranquil night outside, his brain whirring rapidly.

Song Heping...

This na hovered like a ghost in his mind.

The day's frustration was still vivid—1515's retreat at the last mont, Buckdadi's unreliability, and the fierce combat prowess of the "Liberation Forces" in Nineveh Province.

The plan to use a borrowed knife had completely failed, instead highlighting Song Heping's value.

A dangerous thought resurfaced—perhaps, cooperation wasn't out of the question?

Could this sharp knife be used to eliminate the troubleso 1515?

But this idea itself was fraught with paradox and risk.

Song Heping was on the list, an enemy, cooperating with the enemy was akin to dancing with the devil.

He took a deep breath, carrying his coffee back to the study and locked the door.

Heavy curtains isolated everything outside.

He pulled out the specialized encrypted satellite phone, took a deep breath as if summoning courage, and then dialed the satellite phone code etched in his mory.

Persian Plateau, "Liberation Front" secret camp.

Song Heping stood at the edge of the camp, gazing at the distant rolling mountains revealing themselves in the morning light, contemplating his next move.

Suddenly, the satellite phone in his pocket vibrated.

He took it out, glanced at the screen displaying the encrypted number transferred multiple tis, a faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Then he gently pressed the answer button.

"Director."

His voice was calm, showing no trace of fatigue from the life-and-death dash he just experienced, nor any surprise at this uninvited "guest."

It seed everything was within expectations.

"Song."

Simon's voice was processed through encryption software, severely distorted.

"It seems you've safely returned to your domain, congratulations."

He avoided directly asking about the location, this was a tacit understanding.

"Thanks to you, I almost stayed forever in the Gobi Desert of Syria."

Song Heping's tone carried a touch of appropriate sarcasm, like a small needle gently piercing through the false pleasantries.

"I heard the 1515 Ard sent quite a few people to catch , your handiwork, right?"

Simon's old face turned red, he chuckled dryly on the phone to cover up the embarrassnt.

He knew what the other party was referring to.

"Song, I too have my constraints..."

"I know, do I look like I'm going to call you to account?" Song Heping laughed.

To be able to catch the head of the largest intelligence agency on earth, that feeling was indeed quite satisfying.

Who else?

Who else!

"I suddenly had a bold idea today."

Simon brewed his emotions for a mont and said: "Have you ever considered, perhaps there's another way to interact between you and us..."

"? With you?" Song Heping's tone carried a hint of sarcasm: "Director, you an between and you, right? Aren't we cooperating now? Quite happily too."

Simon's face ward slightly again.

"I'll be frank, what happened in Nineveh Province today has proven to the top echelons of the Pentagon and the White House your capabilities, and further proved that your ard forces' combat power far exceeds any previous assessnts."

He paused, seemingly choosing more precise vocabulary.

"Perhaps we could… explore the possibility of a… mutual interest cooperation under new circumstances."

"Cooperation?"

Song Heping's tone contained so irony, "With the United States, who listed as a terrorist and wants eliminated quickly? Mr. Simon, don't you think this sounds very ironic?"

Arican Imperialists are very arrogant; wherever they can avoid reasoning, they certainly won't. If they speak reason at all, it's because they're forced to.

The leader's words suddenly popped into his mind.

He inwardly sneered, Aricans always do this, when direct force or conspiracy fails, they think of "cooperation."

It seems it was no different from the earlier judgnt.

This doorbell had finally rung again.

"International politics has no eternal enemies, only eternal interests."

Simon repeated this diplomatic jargon, trying to wrap this abrupt proposal in a reasonable guise.

"At least in completely eradicating 1515, our goals are highly aligned. You need legitimacy and continuous resources, and we need a truly effective, reliable partner locally to fight 1515. I must admit, the Iliko Governnt Army… has disappointed us too many tis."

His last sentence carried genuine frustration.

Song Heping was silent for a few seconds, not speaking imdiately.

This silence seed to have weight, pressing through the airwaves onto Simon's heart.

He was not pondering over cooperation or not.

Because he had considered the future long ago.

The Aricans' reaction was basically expected.

Paper tigers!

That was the way it was going to be!

Now, what was needed was to assess the timing and thod to propose conditions.

Then, he slowly began to respond: "Cooperation is possible. But I have conditions."

"Please go ahead."

Simon's heart lifted; he knew the real negotiation had begun.

"First,"

Song Heping stated clearly, "The United States Governnt must use all its power to permanently remove and the 'Liberation Forces' from all terrorism lists, and publicly clarify our nature as a militia committed to anti-terrorism and regional stability. This is the foundation of our cooperation; without this premise, there is no discussion. What excuses and reasons you need to find, that's your business. I believe you're quite skilled at this kind of job."

He deliberately emphasized "permanent" and "public."

There was a brief silence on Simon's side.

He could hear the sound of his accelerated heartbeat.

This condition... is too sensitive.

Removing a "dangerous person" determined by multiple parties from the terrorist list, and deleting him from the UN's list isn't just a procedural matter; it's a huge political risk.

"...Please continue."

He decided to listen to the next conditions.

"Second, during the cooperation, the Arican Governnt and the Illinois Governnt must formally recognize the legal status of the 'Liberation Forces,' integrating them into the Illinois national security frawork to receive the sa funding and equipnt allocation as the governnt army. Specifically, we need heavy weapons, including tanks and artillery, regional air defense systems, comprehensive and tily intelligence sharing, as well as necessary close air support."

Simon's mind grew heavier.

He felt the pressure.

"Third, after cooperating to reclaim Nineveh Province, especially major towns like Mosul, control of governance and security affairs in this area must be led by soone I trust, Samir. The Eligo Central Governnt should officially appoint Samir as the Commander of the Nineveh Province Security Forces."

Simon, at this mont, instead let out a sigh of relief.

After all, Samir's 'Liberation Forces' militia has always, although not pro-Arican, at least claid to oppose the 1515 Ard.

There's not much issue on the political spectrum.

"Fourth, as compensation for this cooperation and subsequent military expenses, reconstruction funds after the war, at least two dium-sized oil fields within Nineveh Province with confird reserves and conditions for exploitation must be under our complete control for future revenue sharing for at least twenty years. It must be written into the agreent that Kurd Ard forces cannot seize any opportunity to enter Nineveh Province to plunder benefits."

Benefits...

Simon sneered internally.

Song Heping truly is a PMC boss.

Line by line, nothing is outside interest.

"Fifth,"

Song Heping slightly increased his tone, "Restoring and securing my position and affiliated companies as an authorized logistics supplier to the US Army, allowing us to participate in the US Army's global logistics procurent system, especially in relevant areas. That is what I'm owed; I originally undertook the material supply chain contract for the Illinois US Army. It's the CIA that forced onto the opposite side."

He finished all his demands in one go, with clear logic, covering political, military, economic, and even personal identity.

Simon finally caught on.

It was clear that this proposal had been brewing in Song Heping's mind for a long ti, definitely not a spontaneous idea after a small victory in Nineveh Province.

SHIT!

Simon suddenly felt a sense of being outsmarted.

This feeling was very uncomfortable.

It seed everything had been pre-calculated and controlled by soone else.

Dealing with Song Heping, there's often this inexplicable frustrating thought that erges.

Simon sank into a longer silence.

He could clearly hear his heavy breathing and could even imagine the shocked and incredulous expression on his face at this mont.

These conditions...

cannot be said to be demanding!

They're downright insane!

Removing Song Heping from the list?

This is almost overturning a part of the counter-terrorism policy from the past few years!

Acknowledging Samir's ard legality and granting governnt army treatnt?

This is instead the easiest.

But this would fundantally change the power balance in Northern Illigo, ostensibly supporting a new, possibly harder-to-control warlord!

Having Samir control Nineveh?

This completely sidelines the authority of the Eligo Central Governnt in the area!

Two oil fields extraction rights?

This is pure and unadulterated resource plundering, shaking countless international oil giants' interests!

Restoring the logistics supplier status while eyeing Afghan business?

This guy's appetite is boundless!

"Song..."

Eventually, Simon finally spoke up.

"I must be frank; the conditions you have put forth... especially the first, fourth, and fifth... the scope and sensitivity involved far exceed the general aning of 'cooperation.' Forgive for being blunt; with your current... official level 'identity' and 'value' assessnt, the White House and Congress... are almost impossible to agree to these conditions."

He painstakingly chose his words, attempting to make the other party realize "reality."

To Simon's surprise, Song Heping, on the other end of the line, was not annoyed. Instead, there was a light laugh with a mysterious undertone.

"Hehe, Director Simon, don't rush to conclusions."

Song Heping's voice carried an unusual certainty.

"My value... the White House will soon have the opportunity to reevaluate. Then, when you propose this cooperation plan, resistance might be significantly reduced."

Simon paused and instinctively asked: "Soon? What opportunity?"

His heart was filled with doubt; what other major action was Song Heping planning without his knowledge?

"Heaven cannot reveal its secrets."

Song Heping's voice returned to calm but carried an uninquiring implication.

"Rember, you will see what opportunity I'm talking about; then propose this plan, and maybe the effort will be halved."

After finishing, he didn't give Simon another chance to speak; the call was decisively and neatly cut off.

Simon listened to the busy signal from the receiver and sat in his chair for a while before slowly putting the phone back on the table.

Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his eyebrows.

Shock, absurdity, a touch of annoyed disregard, but more was a deep-seated chill and...

an indistinct premonition.

Song Heping's last words didn't sound like bluffing.

FUCK!

This guy, what big move is he up to again?!

Thinking of this, he reached again for the phone, this ti the landline, and quickly dialed the number for the head of Middle Eastern intelligence departnt.

"This is Simon; prepare a comprehensive intelligence analysis of the current Illinois Northwest by tomorrow morning, and make sure it's in my internal mailbox first thing when I start work."